Killing Jar
Killing Jar; 01
Age 5
I ran down the stairs squealing like any 5 year old would when going to see their best friend. Of course, I wasn’t hers and I didn’t understand why. But I wasn’t too bothered, I loved her like an older sister and she always had the decency to except my love for her.
“Mummy! Can we go see Steffy now,” I moaned as I tugged on my mum’s trouser leg – trying to get her to hurry up to take me to Steffy’s house so I could play and look at her butterflies.
“Yes, honey. Just give me a second,” she replied and picked me up, holding me around her waist and I grinned before tugging slightly on her head.
“Come on!” I giggled and she nodded at me and slung her bag over the shoulder I wasn’t occupying.
She walked us out of the door and towards the car, putting me on my booster seat in the back, buckling me up before sitting herself behind the wheel. I whined, I hated the back seat. I wanted to be up front by mummy! I wanted to drive.
“Mummy,” I groaned. “Can I drive?” I mumbled, knowing the answer all to well but asking anyway.
“Not until you’re a big girl,” she replied and I grumbled.
“I am a big girl, mummy. I’m 5!” I held up five fingers to prove my point and she laughed at me before setting off on the way to Steffy’s house.
I giggled and sat back in my seat, feeling the uncomfortable-ness of the plastic chair on my bumbone and wriggling around a little bit.
“This seat hurts, mummy! I want your seat,” I informed her and I heard her sigh, causing me to grin to myself.
“Sorry, girl,” my mum replied with a slight laugh in her tone and I shrunk further into my uncomfortable booster seat.
She pulled up in Steffy’s dive way and got out of the car to drop me off and pick up Steffy’s mum so they could go out for drinks. I didn’t understand why they had to go out to get a drink, there’s plenty of water in the tap! It makes more sense…
“Eee!” I giggled and struggled to get out of the hold my seat belt had on me. I reached around for the popper, but my arms were too short to reach and I started to get frustrated. My face contorting as I reached for it. “Mummy!” I started to cry slightly in frustration, “Mummy, I want to reach!”
“Hey, not the water works! We don’t want any leaking taps,” my mum cooed and reached over me to unclick my seat belt.
I giggled at how she described crying and held my arms out for her to pick me up. I could walk perfectly fine, I just preferred being carried. It was so much more fun, and I got to see the world at a higher point.
“Come on then, let’s go see Steffy,” she shut the car door and began walking up towards Steffy’s front door, ringing on the doorbell when she got there.
The bell chimed and I reached over to press it myself, my mum having to catch me as I fell slightly from her grip and I dinged it over and over, giggling to myself.
Steffy’s mum opened the door and laughed at me, before ushering us inside.
“Go find Steffy,” my mum said as she put me down and I ran to where I knew she would be.
I ran into the garden and ran towards the greenhouse at the end, pushing on the door for it to open and giggling at Steffy.
“Hi, Steffy!” I grinned and she turned around to look at me, a smile on her face.
“Hey, Emily,” she replied. “How are you?”
“Good,” I replied with a nod and walked over to her, looking around the glass house at the butterflies she kept in glass jars.
I never knew where she got them from, and I wanted one. They looked so… pretty. I just wanted to pick it up and hold it in my hand forever. Feeling it’s soft wings on my finger tips, smiling at the patterns on it’s wings.
“I’ve got a new one, look,” she informed me and pulled me over to the back of the glass house, pointing at the new addition.
I tried to climb up onto the stool in front of it, but couldn’t get my knee up high enough and Steffy had to help me lift it.
“Thank you,” I mumbled, not looking at her and saying it more as a chore than anything else as I stared at the butterfly.
It was a maroon kind of colour, with a black line with blue spots near the edge and a yellow strip at the edge.
“It’s pretty,” I giggled and she nodded her head.
“Yeah, it is. It’s called a Mourning Cloak Butterfly,” she told me and I nodded my head, knowing that I wasn’t going to remember it anytime soon.
Mourning Cloak Butterfly
I ran down the stairs squealing like any 5 year old would when going to see their best friend. Of course, I wasn’t hers and I didn’t understand why. But I wasn’t too bothered, I loved her like an older sister and she always had the decency to except my love for her.
“Mummy! Can we go see Steffy now,” I moaned as I tugged on my mum’s trouser leg – trying to get her to hurry up to take me to Steffy’s house so I could play and look at her butterflies.
“Yes, honey. Just give me a second,” she replied and picked me up, holding me around her waist and I grinned before tugging slightly on her head.
“Come on!” I giggled and she nodded at me and slung her bag over the shoulder I wasn’t occupying.
She walked us out of the door and towards the car, putting me on my booster seat in the back, buckling me up before sitting herself behind the wheel. I whined, I hated the back seat. I wanted to be up front by mummy! I wanted to drive.
“Mummy,” I groaned. “Can I drive?” I mumbled, knowing the answer all to well but asking anyway.
“Not until you’re a big girl,” she replied and I grumbled.
“I am a big girl, mummy. I’m 5!” I held up five fingers to prove my point and she laughed at me before setting off on the way to Steffy’s house.
I giggled and sat back in my seat, feeling the uncomfortable-ness of the plastic chair on my bumbone and wriggling around a little bit.
“This seat hurts, mummy! I want your seat,” I informed her and I heard her sigh, causing me to grin to myself.
“Sorry, girl,” my mum replied with a slight laugh in her tone and I shrunk further into my uncomfortable booster seat.
She pulled up in Steffy’s dive way and got out of the car to drop me off and pick up Steffy’s mum so they could go out for drinks. I didn’t understand why they had to go out to get a drink, there’s plenty of water in the tap! It makes more sense…
“Eee!” I giggled and struggled to get out of the hold my seat belt had on me. I reached around for the popper, but my arms were too short to reach and I started to get frustrated. My face contorting as I reached for it. “Mummy!” I started to cry slightly in frustration, “Mummy, I want to reach!”
“Hey, not the water works! We don’t want any leaking taps,” my mum cooed and reached over me to unclick my seat belt.
I giggled at how she described crying and held my arms out for her to pick me up. I could walk perfectly fine, I just preferred being carried. It was so much more fun, and I got to see the world at a higher point.
“Come on then, let’s go see Steffy,” she shut the car door and began walking up towards Steffy’s front door, ringing on the doorbell when she got there.
The bell chimed and I reached over to press it myself, my mum having to catch me as I fell slightly from her grip and I dinged it over and over, giggling to myself.
Steffy’s mum opened the door and laughed at me, before ushering us inside.
“Go find Steffy,” my mum said as she put me down and I ran to where I knew she would be.
I ran into the garden and ran towards the greenhouse at the end, pushing on the door for it to open and giggling at Steffy.
“Hi, Steffy!” I grinned and she turned around to look at me, a smile on her face.
“Hey, Emily,” she replied. “How are you?”
“Good,” I replied with a nod and walked over to her, looking around the glass house at the butterflies she kept in glass jars.
I never knew where she got them from, and I wanted one. They looked so… pretty. I just wanted to pick it up and hold it in my hand forever. Feeling it’s soft wings on my finger tips, smiling at the patterns on it’s wings.
“I’ve got a new one, look,” she informed me and pulled me over to the back of the glass house, pointing at the new addition.
I tried to climb up onto the stool in front of it, but couldn’t get my knee up high enough and Steffy had to help me lift it.
“Thank you,” I mumbled, not looking at her and saying it more as a chore than anything else as I stared at the butterfly.
It was a maroon kind of colour, with a black line with blue spots near the edge and a yellow strip at the edge.
“It’s pretty,” I giggled and she nodded her head.
“Yeah, it is. It’s called a Mourning Cloak Butterfly,” she told me and I nodded my head, knowing that I wasn’t going to remember it anytime soon.
Mourning Cloak Butterfly